Betty wasn't surprised to find the house empty.

It was just her and her mother now, her father somewhere in New York, he barely called, and with Chic in California, and Polly in San Francisco, she had gotten used to the quiet a long time ago. Alice often worked late, allowing Betty to come and go as she pleased.

A hastily written note taped to the refrigerator informed her that her dinner was in the oven if she got hungry, and thatAlice had yet again taken it upon herself to refill Betty's Adderall prescription.

Stay focused, Elizabeth. She had added at the bottom. Love, mom.

Betty rolled her eyes and crumpled the paper into a ball, tossing it into the nearest trash can.

She reached for the new carrying case, she had several, she wasn't sure why, and took it upstairs with her, her intentions not to let the day's events distract her from her newest, still to be determined article.

Then, it hit her.

Jason.

She could write an article about Jason, a way to honor him, and maybe, it would soften Cheryl's undoubtable rage since she had skipped practice in favor of wandering around the Northside, where she belonged, at least according to her friends.

She had wanted, needed to be alone, even if it was just for a little while.

Betty dropped down onto her desk chair, threw open her laptop, opened a new Word document, and stared at the screen, willing the words to come to her.

They didn't.

Instead, her eye lids grew heavy, and several times, she caught herself beginning to nod off.

She couldn't fall asleep! Not now! Not when the deadline she had given herself was only two days away.

Betty remembered the container of pills still curled in her fist.

She popped the top open, slipping the orange-ish capsule into the palm of her hand, and without hesitation, she threw the drug into her mouth, reaching for the glass of water she hadn't drank the night before.

Instead, her fingers brushed across the cover of his book.

I'm not going to let you destroy yourself.

Tears filled her eyes, and she quickly spit the pill onto the floor.

The bell jingled overhead, signaling to the nearest waiter that a new customer had arrived, but he didn't look up from his laptop to see who it was.

The closing of Southside High had also meant the end of their annual school newspaper, the Red and Black, but his writing hadn't stopped simply because there was no one to read his articles anymore. He had toyed around with writing a novel, the town of Riverdale was full of secrets just waiting to be exposed, and the recent death of Jason Blossom would have made the perfect murder mystery, but Jason himself was still fresh on everyone's minds, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was upset those closest to him, even if they weren't so close anymore.

Our story is about a town, a small town, and the people who live in the town. He typed. From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns all over the world...

Safe...

Decent...

Innocent...

Get closer, though, and you start seeing the shadows underneath.

The name of our town is Riverdale, and our story begins, I guess, with what hometown hero Jason Blossom did this summer.

"Juggie." A familiar voice whispered. He quickly closed the laptop. "Can I sit?"

Jughead glanced up to find none other than Betty Cooper standing beside his usual table.

She was a mess, the circles under her eyes even darker, her hair had almost completely fallen from its pony tail, she hadn't seemed to notice, and despite the very early September chill, she wasn't wearing a coat.

He nodded numbly, unsure of what to say. Betty slid into the booth across from him. He hadn't been expecting anyone, but especially not her, and definitely not in her current state.

"I thought you might be here."

"Oh yeah?"

It was a fair statement, he practically lived at Pop's, it was his place.

It had once been their place.

"If I didn't find you here, I was going to try Sunnyside."

His gaze hardened.

"Stay away from the Southside, Betty." He warned.

Her face fell further, if that was even possible.

"Why were you looking for me?" Jughead demanded.

She placed something on the table top, pushing it towards him.

"I found it in the lounge." She said.

Jughead examined the cover and shot her a grateful look. In his haste to get away, he hadn't realized he'd left it behind.

"Do you remember when you gave this to me?" He asked, the hesitancy clear in his tone.

Betty nodded. "My dad spent an hour trying to convince me that the last thing a thirteen-year-old boy wanted for Christmas was a book, let alone The Sun Also Rises. I told him that he didn't know you like I did."

The ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"It was my favorite present that year." He told her. "I'm sorry about your parents, Betty."

If she was surprised to find that he knew about the divorce, she didn't show it, her eyes glued to the salt and pepper shakers by the window.

What could he possibly say to make her feel better?

"My mom took off." Jughead admitted, after a moment. "Sophomore year. She got sick of my dad's drinking, and of the Serpents, so she packed up everything she owned, and left."

Betty squeezed her eyes shut.

"I don't miss her, though." He said, and that was the truth. "I just wish she wouldn't have taken Jellybean too."

God how he missed his sister, the adorable twelve-year-old kid who laughed at dumb jokes and listened to Pink Floyd on vinyl. She was going by JB now, getting straight A's in school, and despite being separated from her father and brother, she seemed genuinely happy.

He heard a sniffle, and glanced up in alarm to find that her cheeks were wet.

"Betty-"

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Her words seemed to go beyond their confrontation the day before.

A few moments of awkward, and yet somehow also peaceful, comfortable silence fell upon the pair, reminding him of old times, when it was just the two of them. They had never needed to talk without Archie out.

Jughead took a sip of his milkshake, strawberry, his favorite, for something to do. He wondered if she was going to order something, he wondered if he should order something for her, he wondered if she still loved vanilla milkshakes. He wondered if he still knew anything about her.

Her phone began to vibrate loudly. Betty turned it over, glanced down at the caller ID, and threw the device back down again.

"Avoiding someone?" He questioned.

"Avoiding everyone." She confirmed, her tone even.

"Archie?"

"And Veronica."

"It's none of my business." He began, and Betty shifted uncomfortably. "But deep down, Betts, they meant well."

And so did I. He added, as a mental afterthought. He hadn't wanted to startle her, or upset her, but he was a Serpent, and sometimes, Serpents could be a little abrupt, a little unorthodox.

"Maybe." Betty agreed. She surveyed him. "Oh Juggie, your eye."

Jughead held up a hand before she could touch him, letting his shoulders drop in a shrug. "I've had worse."

"Jughead-"

"Never mind, Betty."

The less she knew, the better.

It was safer for him not to get close to her again, for him to cut all ties, for him to pretend that she didn't exist, but the selfish side of him couldn't bring himself to do that. He needed Betty, even if it was from afar, an acquaintanceship if that's what it came down to.

He wouldn't leave her, not when she still needed him, whether she wanted to admit that or not.

The bell jingled again.

"Oh my god!" A familiar enough voice called. Hurried footsteps rushed towards their table. "B! There you are!"

Archie was at the raven haired girl's side seconds later, his blue eyes brooding with concern.

Betty shot her friends a wary look.

"Betty." Archie muttered, a little breathless. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"You weren't at practice." Veronica pointed out.

Jughead stared at her in exasperation. Was that really all she cared about?

"Are you okay?" Veronica demanded.

Betty glanced at Jughead. "I'm fine."

"B." Her fingers locked around the golden haired girl's wrist. "We should talk."

"Honestly, V." She shook her head. "Talking is the last thing I wanna do right now."

Archie opened his mouth to protect.

Jughead stared at him, his eyes holding a warning powerful enough to make his former friend think twice about speaking.

"Can we at least give you a ride home?" He asked instead.

She took a moment to consider the offer.

Part of him wanted her to decline their request.

"Okay." Betty said, standing up. She looked at Jughead again. "Let's go."

This was the only time Betty Cooper ever disappointed him, when she sacrificed what she wanted to make those around her happy. Something told him that she wanted to stay with him as much as he wanted her to remain there too.

"It's cold out." Archie slung his Varsity jacket across her shoulders. "Here."

She slipped her arms through the sleeves, nonchalance dripping from her tone. "Thanks."

Veronica locked a protective arm around her, beginning to lead her towards Pop's only exit.

"Wait." He heard her say.

She whispered something to the two, but only Archie nodded, taking hold of Veronica's arm to pull her outside with him.
Betty returned to the table.

She dropped something onto his ancient book, a familiar pink plastic container that matched the now empty one still stashed in his backpack.

"Betty-"

"There's only one missing." She told him. "But I didn't take it. I swear."

Jughead gazed up at her, covering her hand with his own. "I know you didn't. Betts."

There was no hesitation. She wasn't lying to him.

"Can you hold onto this for me?" Betty asked. "I'm scared that if I have it, I'll take them again, and I don't want to Juggie, I really don't want to... I just... I need someone I can trust, because I don't trust myself right now."

He squeezed her hand harder than he had meant to, his touch somehow calming her.

"I'll take care of it, Betts." He promised simply.

She offered him a watery smile, and then she was gone, going back to the types of people she belonged with. Jughead allowed himself to smile.

She still trusted him, just as he trusted her.